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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28380969">Star Wars: a Spice Dream</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/CollisionTheory/pseuds/CollisionTheory'>CollisionTheory</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Crack, Gen, I'm sorry Gree, basically the Auralnauts conception of Jedi as druggies, if you're reading this at any time other than 2 am I'm sorry, pure unadulterated crack</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 03:06:20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,327</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28380969</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/CollisionTheory/pseuds/CollisionTheory</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Everything in the Star Wars universe still happens, but this time it's caused by Jedi drug addiction.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Star Wars: a Spice Dream</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Credit to Judge and Seren on the SWFF Discord for helping edit!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Yoda hunched over and squinted against the glare. Clone troopers in white armor glinted all around him.</p><p>"Concentrate all your fire on the nearest starship." </p><p>The soldier next to him started, pulling his binocs down and slowly turning to stare at his general.</p><p>"Sir..." he began tentatively. "Did you just...talk normally?" </p><p>Yoda's eyes flashed. Unfortunately Geonosis was no place for a re-supply, and no one could know the truth. </p><p>Again, unfortunate. </p><p>The trooper turned back towards the horizon and brought up his binocs again to work on some recon. Yoda extended a hand out from beneath his dusty robes. He knew what he must do. </p><p>With a flex of the wrist, the clone trooper yelped and shot off the barge, plunging down to the burning sand below. </p><p>
  <em> No one could know the truth. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> --- </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Ki-Adi-Mundi’s genius had come through once again; a fully kinetic response to a “droid attack on the Wookies” was a much easier sell to the Senate than even attempting to justify an attack on a Kashyyyk spice factory as Dooku attempted to seize as much of the supply chain as he could for himself.</p><p>As the most deeply addicted, Yoda had the most to lose should the factory fall to Separatist hands- so of course he would be overseeing the operation personally. And before the battle started, an enthusiastic scout trooper had offered him some new kind of new “mind-expanding agent” courtesy of Wolffe’s latest deal, so, of course he said yes.</p><p>He stood on a raised platform high above the beachhead, swaying on his cane as the weird song of the sacred forest pulsed beneath his wizened green skin. But though he was one with the spice, the spice was not with him.</p><p>Primal bursts of heavy artillery and the predatory whine of soaring LAATs tore at the threads of his awareness like the claws of a nexu. He was swaying in a green hell. A wave crashed upon the beach, leaving behind a mass of mangled green plastoid that spoke with the single voice of 200,000 clone troopers.</p><p>And now it was rising alongside the sound of blaster fire and the wail of the Wookies.</p><p>His hands shook and his grizzled hair stood on end. His skin was clammy and his mouth dry.</p><p>It- no- <em>they</em> were coming for him.</p><p>Commander Gree and the new scout captain stood at the opposite side of the platform, watching their general with concern as he swayed about and made creaky, amphibious noises fit only for a swamp.</p><p>They both looked at each other as Yoda hobbled with an unstable gait straight for the edge of the platform, cane waving in the air, with absolutely no signs of stopping.   </p><p>The two nodded in mutual understanding- the General could <em>not</em> be left alone even six feet from them for his own safety. They had to go help him before he got himself killed.</p><p>The sound of advancing boots on wood vibrated straight though Yoda’s entire skeletal system, pounding a headache into his brain.</p><p>He was out of time.</p><p>He shrieked in fear above the range of human hearing as his heightened senses felt a construct of the green plastoid wave flank him from behind. And worse yet, the clone with two bantha bacon strips for hair advanced upon him too, as merciless as the sobriety campaigners outside the Jedi temple. He wanted to vomit but the fear of death, the fear of the bacon strips, held him back.</p><p>Commander Gree was relieved to see that the General had stopped at the edge. Perhaps he could convince him to just sit in the sauna for a while once they got back to Coruscant, just to detox and relax…</p><p>But Commander Gree never finished that thought.</p><p>The last things he and his scout captain saw were the enraged, bulging frog eyes of Master Yoda as he sliced through their necks with his terrible green plasma lightsaber, vanquishing them as Sith demons from his nightmares.</p><p> </p><p>---</p><p> </p><p>“Whaddyou want?” Rex called down from the shell of the AT-TE, weathered hands clutching the warm railing.</p><p>The teenager with messy black hair called back to him from the midst of the eclectic group. Rex narrowed his eyes.</p><p>“We’re lookin’ for someone!” shouted Ezra.</p><p>“Well that’s too bad, ‘cuz there’s nobody out here,” said Rex flatly. These kids were here to waste his time or something?</p><p>Ezra wasn’t sure how to respond to what the old man had said, so he left it and decided to try a different approach.</p><p>“Hey! Uh, does the number 7567 mean anything to you?” asked Ezra, eyes shifting hopefully between the three remarkably similar-looking men.</p><p>“What did you just say…?” Rex’s voice rose, rigid with tension. “I haven’t heard that number in…” his voice relaxed as he searched through the past.</p><p>A sudden flash of recognition shot across in his eyes.</p><p>
  <em> Kriff. </em>
</p><p>He exchanged a meaningful glance with Gregor, but before either could say anything, Wolffe had remembered the significance of that number too, of the special strain he’d developed and named after the Captain’s designation.</p><p>The one-eyed, one-time commander, one-time chemist prodigy of Wolffe &amp; Koon Labs was yanked back into the past. It was too late. All the rehab and counselling work Rex and Gregor had done with him was breaking down before their eyes as the man grabbed his blaster rifle and targeted the group of kids before them.</p><p>His face was wild as the memories flooded forth, memories of the horrific Order 66 massacres in which impossibly drug-fueled Jedi had turned on their clones, slaughtering them.</p><p>“Jedi! They’ve come for the product!” </p><p> </p><p>---</p><p> </p><p>Old Ben pushed himself off the seat slowly, breathing deeply of the cool air inside the Tattooine mud house.</p><p>Luke was finally here, and now was as good a time as any.</p><p>“I have something here for you…”</p><p>R2 beeped in alarm. He could sense it too- the legacy would be reinvigorated, starting anew.</p><p>“Your father wanted you to have this when you were old enough, but your uncle wouldn’t allow it…”</p><p>Obi-wan crossed the room and began rummaging inside his lock box as he addressed the farm boy.</p><p>“He feared you might follow old Obi-Wan down to Nar Shadaa music festivals and clandestine raves.”</p><p>Luke’s eyes went wide, and he walked over to meet the old man in the center of the room. R2 was spouting off something about ‘incredible dosage’ and ranting about a man named ‘Wolffe,’ but Luke had already tuned him out. Tatooine had absolutely nothing going for it; the promise of nightlife almost made his mouth water.</p><p>“What is it?” asked Luke, a look of puzzled curiosity on his face.</p><p>“Your father’s lightsaber.”</p><p>Obi-Wan handed the cylindrical thing to Luke who took it gingerly. He pointed it away from himself, then hit the button.</p><p>A glowing blue blade erupted from the hilt with a snap and hiss. Luke stared in awe, swishing it around in the air, savoring its vibration.</p><p>But just then, something plopped out of the base of the hilt and rolled across the ground.</p><p>Luke recognized the packaging from the holos. Could it be? No…</p><p>Old Ben bent down to grab one, holding it up to Luke.</p><p>“Concentrated death sticks, Luke. A more elegant formulation, for a more civilized age…“     </p><p> </p><p>---</p><p> </p><p>Yoda's constant adherence to his odd speech patterns had painted a veneer of normalcy over the whole thing. But now as Luke stared into the old master's face, he saw only dilated, pulsing pupils ringed in an angry pink. He could almost see sweat beading in the folds of the frog's shriveled skin. </p><p>Yoda clutched his cane to stop the tremors as Luke drew back. </p><p>Damn the Coruscant Guard for taking his stash. They'd detonated his supply miles up in the atmosphere as he'd foamed and shook, bound in handcuffs on the back of a speeder zipping towards the central jail. Damn the entire GAR, and damn Commander Fox. Damn him especially to hell.</p>
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